


Places we can hide

by JustAnnie



Series: Milnerson [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, Liverpool F.C., Liverpool FC players - Freeform, M/M, milnerson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:31:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnnie/pseuds/JustAnnie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James and Jordan go off on holiday together, locking themselves away from the world to try and figure out what their relationship actually is. Which is easier said than done, with the constant reminders of what's waiting for them once they have to leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Places we can hide

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Taylor Swift's _I Know Places_
> 
> Sequel to _You were there, by my side_ , though I tried to write this as it's own work, so you don't have to read that one. I'd be very happy if you did though.
> 
> and cause I realise not everyone will know their nicknames and they keep appearing: Milly = James Milner. Jord, Hendo = Jordan Henderson. Ads = Adam Lallana. 
> 
> This turned out even longer than the previous one. I don't know why that keeps happening. I never manage to keep anything short.

Jordan stares out the small window of their airplane, watching another one take off down the runway. He feels weird, on edge. He can’t sit still, his leg bouncing a little, his hand fidgeting with the seatbelt. He has a short moment of panic, thinking that once this plane takes off there’s no going back. He’s never scared of flying normally, it’s become such a normal thing for him after all these years. But everything about this feels new and uncertain. Which isn’t necessarily bad, part of it all is excitement, it’s just that he never does this kind of thing, and he’s heading into unknown territory in more than one way. He looks over at his traveling companion, as James steps aside to let other passengers through.

“I don’t speak Spanish…”

Jordan scratches his chin, frowning at himself, not sure why that’s the thing he brings up now. James looks up with a frown as he grabs his book and phone from the front pocket of his small suitcase.

“You only just realised that?” He asks, a small smirk on his face as he puts his small hand luggage-sized suitcase up in the compartment above them.

“Well, no, I just…maybe I should learn.”

Jordan has to keep himself from commenting once again on how that’s all the luggage James has brought. He can already foresee an argument about James using his expensive shampoo, despite claiming he’ll just buy all his toiletries when they get there. James drops into the seat next to Jordan’s, stuffing his phone and book into the pocket in front of him.

“It’s a long flight, don’t think it’s quite long enough for you to have learned a new language by the time we get there though.”

Jordan shrugs. He can’t really argue with that. And it’s too early in the morning to ask for lessons anyway. He yawns, thinking how nice it would be to rest his head against James’ chest and fall asleep, to have James’ arm around him. No one is paying them much attention, but it’s hardly a chance they can take. Jordan can already see the headlines when someone’s photo of them reaches the media. Just another reason to be jittery about this whole trip. Though if he’s honest, it’s mainly because they had decided on it so quickly. It’s only been a few days since they crashed out of the Euros, deciding that they didn’t want to be apart until pre-season started up again. At least Adam hadn’t asked too many questions once Jordan assured him he would just change his flights and meet up with him in Miami so their holiday could go as planned.

“Don’t worry, Hendo. I speak Spanish, we’ll get by.” James’ hand lands on his knee for a moment, squeezing it carefully, as if he knows Jordan has a million worries running through his mind. It’s comforting, steadying, but he moves his hand away again after just a few seconds.

Jordan doesn’t say that James’ modest Spanish might not actually get them very far, but he’s thinking it. He glances over at his…whatever James is to him now. Friend, teammate, co-captain. Boyfriend? That one is a bit more uncertain. That’s why they’re on their way far away from home, far away from jokes about England leaving Europe twice in one week, far away from everyone knowing them and everyone claiming their time. It’s just going to be them now, in a warm and sunny place where no one knows their names or faces or care to analyze theirs or England’s recent performances on the pitch.

———————————————————————————————

The airport is loud and busy, and James has to restrain himself to not reach out and grab Jordan’s hand to make sure they don’t lose track of each other. It’s poorly air-conditioned to, and James can feel his shirt sticking to his skin already. Outside it’s raining though, heavy clouds refusing to budge and let the sun through. There’s a group of Scandinavian tourists who point at them, a girl and a boy shyly moving towards them to ask for autographs and photos, and their parents offer their sympathy for the early euro exit. Well, at least the place is warm. They got that part right.

There’s a driver with a sign waiting for them in the arrivals hall. He speaks a little English, but James turns over to Spanish. He’s been practicing on his own, without really talking to anyone about it. He’ll speak Spanish with Alberto and the Brazilians sometimes, but Alberto wants to learn English and the Brazilians keep mixing it with Portuguese, which Alberto understands just fine but to James it might as well be Greek.

James is grinning at the driver who praises his Spanish (”very good for an Englishman”) and pats him on the shoulder. James glances over at Jordan who is staring at him with his mouth slightly open. The driver insists on taking their luggage and walks on ahead, so James turns towards Jordan.

“What?”

“Your Spanish…it’s better than I thought. He seemed to understand everything.”

“I told you I speak Spanish.”

“Yeah, I just…never mind.” There’s a hint of a blush in his cheeks, and James has to force himself not to smirk too widely. He makes a mental note of it though; Jordan is definitely into him speaking Spanish.

————————————————————————————————

The house they’ve rented is bigger than two people need. It’s within a gated community with it’s own shop, and there’s a pool in a closed-off and shielded garden. There’s an elaborate alarm system with an instruction manual in around thirty different languages, but even the English one is hard to understand. There’s even a gym in the house, and a park within the gates to go on runs so they don’t have to worry about losing fitness. Basically they can shut the world out completely for a little over a week. It’s not the kind of place either of them would usually like to stay at, preferring to feel a bit more grounded than this, but they had asked their agents to find them solitude, and picked the option that seemed best. It lessens the chance of getting caught, of creating headlines for the wrong reasons. They never needed a deep conversation about it to know that they’re taking risks, massive risks with this thing between them. And they don’t even know what _this thing_ is.

Jordan stands by the large glass doors that leads out to a back porch, with a small staircase down to a well-kept garden. Right in the middle there’s the pool, all lit up and casting a magical glow around the whole garden. But it’s also casting shadows so the edges are dark and impossible to see. For a brief second Jordan imagines paparazzi hiding in the bushes, waiting for the opportunity to show the world how two of England’s finest are licking their wounds. It’s late, or early. Somewhere between midnight and a reasonable hour to be awake. James is still asleep in one of the bedrooms. Their bedroom.

Although he’s unpacked his clothes in the other bedroom, so they don’t have to worry about the maid who comes by a couple times a week figuring out two world-known footballers are sleeping in the same bed and potentially selling her story to a tabloid. They crashed almost as soon as they’d settled in, curled up together for the night for the first time since _that_ night, asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows. They had barely had a chance to even kiss since then, let alone anything else. They had tried, in France. There was nothing unusual about James hanging out with Jordan in his room, so they had tried sneaking off when they knew Adam was busy. But the fear of being walked in on put a damper on the mood.

Fear. Of Adam. _Ads_. His best mate. It’s not a situation he’s ever been in before, and every step he takes is like waiting for something to give in underneath him. When he stops to think about it all, it’s terrifying just how much they’re risking. So he tries not to do that.

He hears movement, bare feet on tiled floors. He doesn’t turn around, but he sees James reflected in the window, moving closer.

“Can’t sleep?”

Soon James’ arms sneak around his waist from the side, his head leaning against his shoulder. Jordan smiles at the sound of James yawning. His arms are familiar, the smell of him to, and his voice. Everything about James is familiar, comforting. He tries to think of when that happened, was it like that from the start? James just has that way about him, a calm reassuring energy that just makes Jordan feel better about everything. He leans into the embrace, sighing softly.

“Time difference messing me up I think.”

“Yeah, me to.”

They stand there in silence, watching the rain trickle down the glass. The sound of it is comforting, if he closes his eyes he can easily imagine being at home. He can’t help but feel homesick, he’s barely stepped foot in his own home since the final. He’d been off to join England almost immediately, only home to unpack and repack. Then once they were out of the euros, it had been pretty much the same. This was nice though, they needed this. At home or in France they’d barely have time to be just Jordan and James figuring out why they’d ended up in bed together. Here that was all they had to be, for a little while.

“Can you believe we traveled this far just for rain? Could have gotten that at home.”

Jordan smiles. “At least here is warmer. And it probably won’t rain for days on end. I hope.”

“Ah well…we’re not here for sightseeing anyway.” Jordan turns to see a small smirk on James’ face, and a rush of excitement runs through him. “It’s still a few hours until it’s worth getting up.” James leans in closer, near whispering in his ear. “ _Ven a la cama._ ”

Jordan swallows, a small delightful shiver going down his back. “W-what does that mean?”

“Come to bed.”

Jordan nods, letting James take his hand and lead him back to the bedroom. They’re too tired for more than a few kisses, too uncertain, but James wraps his arms around him and Jordan buries his head in under his chin, against his chest, listening to James’ heartbeat until he falls asleep.

——————————————————————————————————

Jordan is laughing as he runs towards the door to the house. James takes it easier, they’re gonna get soaked anyway, so he focuses on holding the plastic bags as sealed as possible to keep the groceries from getting wet. Neither of them had thought to bring raincoats with them on holiday, but the warm air would dry them up pretty quickly again. When James reaches the door, Jordan has it unlocked and is holding it open for him, sheltered under the small roof above the entrance. James rushes past him and inside, dropping the bags inside the hallway before peeling off his useless soaking wet hoodie.

When he turns towards Jordan, he looks into a smiling face and shining eyes. All the gel he had carefully put in his hair less than an hour earlier has been washed out, strands of hair sticking to his forehead. James can’t help it. He reaches out, his long fingers gently brushing the hair out of Jordan’s face. Jordan just looks at him, the smile changing into something else, the look in his eyes making James’ heart skip a beat.

James lets his fingers trail down along the side of Jordan’s face, about to remove his hand when Jordan leans into the touch, closing his eyes for a short second. So he lingers, his thumb moving along Jordan’s jawline. Jordan takes one step closer, and suddenly there’s very little space left between them, and Jordan is towering over him. Jordan places his hand on top of James’ hand, entwining their fingers. He turns his head, placing a light kiss against the tender skin on the inside of his wrist, and James finds himself leaning against him. He buries his face against Jordan’s neck, not caring that he’s still soaking wet, placing light kisses against his wet skin. Jordan’s other hand moves around his waist, fingers grabbing onto his soaked-through shirt.

Jordan moves his head, leaning down. James can feel his lips brush against his ear, and his cheek. He turns towards him, finding his lips. It still feels so brand new, even though it’s been weeks now since they first kissed. But this is different, unguarded. Not like the stolen kisses at the hotel in France, fooling around under the covers with their clothes on and not daring to go very far cause someone could walk in any second, like teenagers worried their parents might catch them. Jumping at every sound. Separating in frustration, having to take care of things by themselves, if they could even get the privacy to do that. Here it’s just them, no reason to be scared. They can do what they want here.

Jordan is pushing him backwards, his hand moving under his shirt, over his abs and up towards his chest. Jordan’s fingers are cold, but that’s not the only reason the touch sends a shiver through him.

“We really should get out of these wet clothes,” Jordan mutters against his lips.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” James mumbles back, catching his lips with his own again. They only separate again to pull each other’s shirts off, discarding them on their way to the bedroom, groceries left forgotten in the hallway.

————————————————————————

It’s a rush of hands moving over skin, teeth clashing, clothes disappearing as fast as they can get them off each other. They fall onto the bed with James shorts halfway off, while he tries to get Jordan’s off, muttering something about zippers and buttons being a hassle. Soon there are no clothes to separate them, the quiet interrupted by moans and whimpers as fingers, lips and tongues explore new places. Jordan marvels at how beautiful James looks when he comes undone, how he drops his guard completely. He doesn’t even mind James messing up his hair, actually enjoying the way James grabs on to it, not when he’s moaning like that.

Soon it’s Jordan’s turn to lose all common sense, his arms and legs wrapped around James in a tight hold, feeling like if he lets go he might drift away. Their eyes meet, and they hold each other’s gaze until Jordan’s hand grabs hold around James’ neck, pulling him in for a desperate kiss. Jordan is still clinging to James when they come down, both panting and unable to move for several seconds, before Jordan rolls over to his back, and they just lay next to each other, the cool air from the air condition even more of a blessing on their hot skin.

—————————————————————————

Jordan turns to his side, tucking a pillow in under his head to get comfortable. James can feel him watching him, turning his head to find a soft smile on Jordan’s face, another look to make his heart skip a beat. Jordan places a hand on his chest, tracing the red marks he’s left there.

“Think I got a bit carried away…”

James looks down himself, chuckling as he drops his head back down on the pillow. “A bit, yeah…” his eyes move along Jordan’s upper body, realising he’s left his own marks. “I think we both did.”

Jordan only shrugs, his hand still tracing patterns on James’ skin. They’re quiet for a moment. James can tell Jordan is deep in thought about something, which sends a whole bunch of worries floating through his mind.

“You okay?” He asks, a concerned frown on his face as he turns towards his captain again.

“Okay? I think you can aim a bit higher than that, after your performance.” Jordan grins, and James has to force himself not to grin too widely back.

“You just looked like there’s something on your mind.”

Jordan shrugs again, his eyes drifting from James’ face towards the window, as if mulling over whether or not to ask the things he wants.

“Have you ever done this before?”

James raises an eyebrow. “What, sex?”

“No,” Jordan sighs. “That’s obvious that you have.” He winks at him, but quickly turns serious again. “I meant, with a-a teammate.”

James hesitates for a moment, before answering. “No. I always tried to keep it separate.”

There’s a small frown on Jordan’s face as he considers his next question. “So you’ve always known then? That you’re-”

“Yeah, pretty much.” James keeps his eyes towards the wall, not really looking at Jordan. He’s never liked having this conversation.

“Oh…I don’t know what I am. Aside from, you know…into you.”

James can’t help smiling, turning towards him again. “That’s enough for me.” He gets a kiss for that, Jordan smiling against his lips. He stays close, resting his head against James’ shoulder. “You’ve been with men before though?”

“A couple times…I was never sure what it meant though. And it was nothing serious. Just fooling around, you know?”

James shrugged. Of course he knew what that was like. He had always wanted more than that, something worth the risk. But football came first, and no one wanted to come second to it or be his dirty little secret. He didn’t really want them to be either. At times he had even considered abstinence on that as well as the alcohol, but that never lasted.

“So I’m your first footballer. I’ll take that as an honour.”

James chuckles, shaking his head.

“And your own captain at that. You’re very ambitious.”

“Shut up,” James says with a laugh, running his hand through Jordan’s hair again. “I’d say I’ve made a good choice though.” He turns his head to place a kiss to Jordan’s forehead, Jordan lifting his head for a second on the lips.

“A great choice, I’m a catch you know.”

“Eh…jury’s still out on that.”

Jordan slaps his chest playfully. James grabs his hand, using it to pull him closer so he can kiss him again.

—————————————————————————————

The porch swing squeaks slightly. It’s not much, and if this place wasn’t so quiet, Jordan wouldn’t even have noticed. The rain stopped finally halfway through the first day, but they hadn’t left the house much for the past couple days anyway. They hadn’t even left the bedroom much. Jordan smiles to himself, thinking he’ll never go stir-crazy stuck inside anywhere when he has James to occupy him. He stretches out, long legs taking up all the space on the two-seater porch swing, feeling his body ache in places he’s not used to it aching. James’ endurance isn’t limited to the pitch, he knows that now. He even went for a run, while Jordan was left completely exhausted.

He’s starting to like this place. It’s a bit of a paradox that they’re behind locked gates with security guards, and an alarm system they can’t even make sense of, yet it’s the first time Jordan has felt free since that night in their hotel room in Basel. Free to explore _them_ , to explore James, without that constant fear of someone walking in on them. It’s only temporary, but it’s nice to have. His eyes are drawn towards the pool. Even though it’s starting to get dark the air is still warm and humid, and even in the shade, without moving a muscle, Jordan feels his clothes sticking to his skin just a little. He forces himself to get up, wincing slightly as his body protests, and moves over to the pool. He checks it with his hand, satisfied that it’s cooling but not cold. He glances around, making sure once again that none of the neighbours can look in. After only a small moment of hesitance, he pulls his shirt off, dropping it on the ground. His shorts follow, and his underwear, and he slides into the water stark naked.

He’s done a few laps by the time James shows up. Jordan swims over to the edge, resting his arms there as he lets his eyes travel up along James’ body, taking full advantage of not having to disguise his gaze. James is still panting slightly from his run, his training shirt soaked through with sweat. James runs a hand through his wet hair and down to his neck, and Jordan lets his eyes follow the movement almost longingly.

“Going for a run in this heat is hell,” James complains, and Jordan has no doubt.

“Yeah, you’re all sweaty. You should join me. Cool down.” He smirks, their eyes meeting. James looks at the pile of clothes, and takes a few steps closer to look into the pool.

“Are you naked in there?”

“Couldn’t be bothered going in to get my trunks.”

“And you think me joining you in there when you’re all naked will make me cool down?” James is the one smirking now.

Jordan chuckles, pushing off the edge and floating towards the middle of the pool. “I’m doing a few more laps. Join me if you dare, Milly.”

He turns away from him, waiting as he swims towards the other side. It doesn’t take many seconds before he hears the sound of James going into the water. They both swim a couple laps before it dissolves into a splashing war, that Jordan is naturally the one to start. It turns into them both trying to push the other under water, before Jordan swims out to the deeper end of the pool, where he can only barely reach the bottom, knowing full well that means James can’t. James still tries though, but Jordan gets the upper hand, pushing him down and under water. James comes back up again, water splashing everywhere and Jordan is laughing when James puts his arms around his neck, a grin on his face.

“I can’t stand here. You’ll have to make sure I don’t drown, captain.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you…” he slides his arms around James’ waist, suddenly very aware of them both being naked, glancing towards the edge of the property again, half expecting to see someone hanging over the fence with a camera. But James presses his lips against his, and then he doesn’t really think about anything other than James.

——————————————————————————

James has his legs up on the footrest, yawning as the end credits roll on the massive television in front of them. If it hadn’t been for the air condition he would be melting right about now, Jordan’s body heating up like a bloody radiator. He can’t feel annoyed though, smiling as he looks down at him. Jordan is stretched out along the length of the sofa, a pillow in James’ lap to rest his head on. James has been playing with his hair for the past couple hours, on and off, as the movie played on in front of them. He likes it when Jordan keeps the gel out of it, how soft it feels between his fingers. And he likes being able to do this, to not have to wait for Jordan to fall asleep so he can carefully run his hand through it, hoping not to wake him. To not have to worry about anyone seeing them and asking questions.

Jordan turns around on his back, looking up at him. James brushes the hair out of his face, that small fringe you normally don’t see when he has his hair all done up, that sticks to his forehead when he’s wet or sweaty. Those damned strands of hair that stirs far too many feelings in James for being just strands of hair. Jordan catches his hand with his own, bringing it down to his lips, short kisses placed on his knuckles. Then he yawns, and James smiles softly, wondering how he ever stood a chance when even Jordan’s yawning is cute.

“Come on, captain, let’s get you to bed.” James pats him on his stomach, but Jordan just smirks up at him.

“Don’t tell me you’re ready to go again, cause I don’t know if I can.”

James chuckles, shaking his head. “Is your mind always in the gutter? I think we both need the sleep right now.”

“So hardworking James Milner does get tired. Good to know.” Jordan sits up, albeit reluctantly, still leaning back against James’ side. With his hand still on Jordan’s stomach, he’s now got his arm around him instead, and James puts his other arm around him to, hugging him close for a moment.

“I guess I finally found the right person to wear me out.” He says it a as a joke, but even as he places a light kiss against Jordan’s neck he feels like he just said something much more meaningful than that. He wants to add _‘the right person for everything_ ’ but he doesn’t. Everything has been turned upside down already with them, he’s not ready yet. So he pulls his arms back, playfully pushing against Jordan’s back until he finally gets up. Jordan takes James’ hand with him though, entwining their fingers together as he pulls James to his feet as well.

——————————————————————————————

Jordan’s phone beeps, and as soon as he reads the message from Adam he feels his heart sinking.

_“Hows holidaying with Milly? He driving you crazy yet?”_

Jordan swallows, his thumb hovering over the letters as he tries to think of a reply. Everything he thinks of feels like lying to his best friend. In the end he only replies that it’s been raining, but it’s finally looking up. And that Milly is complaining about the heat. He sighs heavily, louder than he thought, as he drops the phone next to himself on the sofa. James looks up, eyebrows raised questioningly.

“Ads…” Jordan explains simply. “I just hate lying to him.”

“Yeah…” that’s all James says, but Jordan can see in his eyes that it’s bothering him to.

They’re both lying to everyone, to their teammates, friends, families. At first they had considered pretending to go different places, but James had pointed out that Liverpool-fans are everywhere and the odds of someone posting a photo of them were good enough that they shouldn’t take the risk of having to explain why they had lied about being on holiday together. So they had just played it cool instead. So the story became that they had talked about places they wanted to go, and surprise, they both wanted to go to the same place. So why not go together? No wives or kids to worry about, so why not travel with a friend and teammate? It had still caught some raised eyebrows though. Neither of them was the type to be spontaneous like that.

“I’m supposed to be in Miami with him on holiday next week. He’s going to ask about this…”

“Yeah…”

Jordan feels a hint of annoyance, glancing over at his…whatever he is. “I don’t know if I should tell him the truth or…”

“You know him best.”

Jordan grits his teeth, turning away. They were supposed to come here to figure things out, but they haven’t really talked about anything since that first day. They haven’t figured anything out. And the hours are dwindling down until they have to split up again and go off on their own to different parts of the world. They’re about to be apart for longer than they have been since….since James came to Liverpool actually. More than a year ago now. That alone is scary enough, but to do it without a definite answer to what they are…

He looks over at James again, who has his eyes firmly locked on his phone like he’s reading something important, but he’s staring at it too intently and Jordan knows he’s just avoiding looking at him.

“I’m going for a run.” Jordan gets up, heading to their bedroom, his bedroom, to change.

——————————————————————————————

James hates the tension between them. He has a feeling he knows how to fix it or at least ease it, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Jordan had been in a mood since he came back from his run. They had eaten in silence, and he hadn’t cuddled up to him when they put on a movie that night. Then Jordan had gone off to bed early, suggesting James should sleep in the other room since the maid was coming by the next day and it should look believable, and he had a headache anyway. The bitter tone to his voice had made James cringe.

The guided tour the following day was planned in advance though, and it had been Jordan’s idea so James wasn’t going to risk angering him any further by suggesting they skip it. Instead he smiles for a couple pictures so Jordan can send them out to people to show them enjoying their holiday. Everything has to look right. It’s starting to leave a sour taste in James’ mouth to. He’s more used to it, he’s always known that this is a part of himself he’d have to hide. If asked he’d just say he’s so focused on his career he hasn’t had time to find the right woman, that there’s time to start a family when he retires from football. He’s escaped the pressure because he’s James Milner, reliable and hard working and he doesn’t even drink. Why would managers or clubs worry about him settling down when he’s always been settled? It had always been career first with him, having a personal life could wait for once he retired as a footballer. He’d have time to worry about coming out and finding the right man then. Then along came Jordan Henderson, screwing up his plans.

James looks over at him now, staring out the window of the car as it moves along a highway towards their next destination, some ruins up in a mountain. The tour guide from the company is taking a well deserved break from smiling kindly and trying to entertain to the two grumpy Englishmen, leaning back in her seat and watching the view. The driver doesn’t speak any English and James has run out of anything to say to him in Spanish a while ago, once he realised that not even hearing him speak Spanish was making Jordan any more likely to smile at him. Neither of them are looking at him and Jordan though, and after a moment of hesitation James reaches out, placing his hand on Jordan’s.

Jordan turns around, staring at their hands for a moment before he meets James’ eyes, a hard look on his face. James is expecting him to pull his hand away, but Jordan must see something in his face because his expression softens and he lets out a sigh. Jordan turns his hand around, holding James’ back and squeezing his hand. It’s only for a moment before they both let go, knowing that any second the driver or their guide could see it. But they’re both slightly less cranky at the next stop.

——————————————————————————————

Jordan stares at James’ back, how tense his shoulders are. He’s disappeared outside to the porch that leads into the garden, and Jordan had feared for a short moment when he walked back into the empty living room that James had had enough of his sour mood and taken off. He never would have, Jordan knows that, but this whole day has had him paranoid, watching for paparazzi or fans who might snap photos of them. Don’t stand too close, don’t brush against each other. But try to smile and look happy so no one gets suspicious. He can still feel the imprint of James’ fingers tangled with his own in the car, the fear of something that innocent being seen. He knows he’s putting too much thought into it, but he can’t help it. It’s all just so frustrating, and he’s been taking it out on James even though it’s the world he’s mad at.

James visibly relaxes suddenly, and Jordan looks past him to see that he’s watching the sunset. It’s absolutely beautiful, the whole skyline looks like it’s burning. Jordan steps outside silently, taking in the whole view. James hasn’t turned around, only barely glanced in his direction. Maybe he thinks Jordan is still mad at him. But he doesn’t want to be, he really doesn’t. He wants to go back to shutting everything out and James being his whole world like the first few days here. He moves to stand behind him, putting his arms around his waist. Without a word he leans his head on top of James’. It doesn’t take more than a couple seconds before James places his hands over Jordan’s, entwining their fingers again. James leans back into him and they just stand there quietly, watching the sunset.

Jordan wants to say he’s sorry for being such a twat, but he’s not good at apologies. So what he says instead is “come to bed.”

“Yours or mine?” is the response he gets, and he winces slightly at James’ tone. He can’t blame him for that snarky reply after his own last night.

But for once he thinks he knows how to make up for it. “Ours,” he says simply, and he can almost feel the smile on James’ face even though he can’t really see it from where he is.

James holds on to one of his hands and lets the other drop as he moves out of his embrace, turning to face him. Jordan feels the tension leave his own shoulders when all he sees in James’ face is softness and warmth. He pulls him close, pressing his lips to the top of his head. He smells like Jordan’s shampoo and he’s not even mad that James can’t tell the difference between his own cheap one bought at the local supermarket and Jordan’s expensive one that he has to order in online because they don’t seem to sell it anywhere. Jordan places a trail of kisses down his face, starting with his forehead to the bridge of his nose, then the tip of his nose where he lingers. James’ lips are curled upwards in a soft smile when he reaches them, his own smile fitting them perfectly.

 _We’ll be okay_ , he thinks to himself. Maybe it’s naive, but he doesn’t care. There’s no other choice anymore. They’ll figure it out.

————————————————————————————————

James stares at the ceiling. It’s white, just like the ceiling and walls in every room. White, modern, basic. Not his style at all, but as long as he’s comfortable he doesn’t really take much notice of these things. What’s more important is the man next to him, stirring from his deep sleep. Jordan has one arm over his chest, his body pressed against James’s side. Jordan’s face is nuzzled in against his neck, and James has been lying awake for the past hour both listening to and feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing. Jordan’s eyes flutter open, and even half asleep his instant reaction to seeing James looking at him is to smile.

Such a simple thing turns his insides to turmoil, a mix of fear and joy bubbling inside him. He’s seen Jordan’s optimism fade away about them, the anger coming in since he hasn’t learned to be cynical about it yet. James is just used to it, keeping it hidden away. His personal life was personal anyway, right? And the tabloids had never taken much interest in him. There’s a voice in the back of James’ mind that tells him he should walk away from this, that Jordan has never really had to worry about being into men before so why drag him down with him? Tell Jordan this was all a mistake, nothing serious, one of those things that sometimes happen between teammates because they get emotionally attached and he should just go back to finding himself a nice woman to marry who can make him happy. Set him free.

But Jordan gives him a sloppy kiss, mumbling “good morning, gorgeous”, with a couple loose strands of hair hanging down in his face, and there’s a mark at the top of his chest that James left there last night. So he says the complete opposite to what will make Jordan free to walk away before this thing gets serious (as if that isn’t already too late).

“I love you.”

Jordan blinks, staring at James as the seconds tick by, his sleep-addled brain needing a moment or two to take in what he just heard. Then his face breaks into a wide grin, and James knows instantly that this is what he’s wanted to hear since they got here. Maybe longer. And it’s what James has wanted to say, but hasn’t been able to because Jordan shouldn’t have to accept what he accepted at the age of fourteen when he decided that becoming a professional footballer was all he wanted to be, and he’d give up whatever he had to for it to happen.

“I love you to.”

Suddenly James doesn’t care about any of that though. He will again in a few minutes, or hours. If he’s lucky he can push it aside for the few more days they have until they split up and go off on their actual planned holidays. They have to deal with all of it, make some decisions. But for now all he thinks about is Jordan.

——————————————————————————————

“I’m gonna tell him.” Jordan feels the weight of his own words as he says them, though at the same time having made the decision takes a weight off his shoulders. Maybe he looks relaxed, his feet dangling over the edge of the porch swing and eyes squinting in the sunlight because he forgot his sunglasses inside and hasn’t been bothered to go get them, but his mind hasn’t had a moment’s rest.

“Ads?” James asks simply, turning towards him with eyebrows slightly raised.

“Yeah…I just can’t lie to him. Not anymore than I already have.”

James nods and moves closer. He pushes at Jordan’s legs, and Jordan pulls them back to give James space to sit down, only to put his legs over his lap once he has. James’ arms rest on top of them, his thumb absentmindedly caressing his lower thigh, just by the edge of his shorts. James looks like he’s thinking it over, so Jordan stays quiet, letting out a relieved sigh as a breeze blows by them, closing his eyes for a moment.

“No…you shouldn’t have to. I don’t like lying to him either.” James finally speaks, his gaze directed towards the pool, though he doesn’t seem to really be looking at anything in particular. “So you’re gonna tell him on your own, in Miami?”

“I don’t want to wait. But, you could come with. Just get a flight out there. We could tell him together.” And then he wouldn’t have to tell him alone. He knows that’s cowardly, but it would be nice.

James smiles wryly, turning towards Jordan. “I think it’s better if you tell him, Jord. He’s _your_ best mate. It’s probably easier for him not having to deal with both of us there.”

Jordan sighs. He can’t really argue with that, though part of him wants to.

“Besides, I don’t wanna crash your trip. You guys have been planning it for a while. And I have people to tell at home.”

Jordan frowns, near pouting really. “Home is far away from Miami.”

James laughs, squeezing his knee lightly, his hand staying there. “I know. It’s not gonna be for long though. Maybe it’s good for us, to have some time apart.”

Jordan stares at him, eyes narrowing. “No, it’s not.”

James grins, shaking his head. “Good to know you can’t get enough of me.”

Jordan smirks, moving to sit up. His hand moves around James, resting at the back of his neck. “Maybe we should just stay here.”

“Sure. It’s not like we have lives and responsibilities to get back to or anything.”

“Ugh…” Jordan lets go of him, throwing himself back down on the seat of the porch swing, the movement making it sway a bit. He knows James is right though, and Jordan would be lying if he claimed he wasn’t already itching to get back to work, to start the new season. But nothing was going to be the same, not now. Once they left this place, who knew what things would be like.

“Come on,” James pats him on the leg. “Let’s go for a run in the park. I’ll race you to the fountain.”

There’s nothing like a little competition, and Jordan instantly sits up and swings his legs down on the ground. “Alright. Winner gets to soap the other up in the shower,” he says with a grin.

James smirks as he gets up to. “I don’t know, that sounds like we both win.”

Jordan puts his hand under his chin, lifting his head up as he leans down to meet him halfway. He kisses him softly, before pulling back, the grin still on his face. “That’s cause we’re on the same team, co-captain.”

“Vice-captain,” James corrects, but Jordan is already moving away, refusing to hear it.

———————————————————————

James opens every drawer, checks every shelf, looks under the bed. Finally he closes the closet doors with a bang, before stepping out into the hallway. Jordan barely even looks up, just leaning against the wall with his head down.

“We got everything?” He asks, his voice low. James nods, sighing as he steps closer. Jordan finally looks up, a small smile on his face that isn’t at all convincing. Without another word he closes the distance between them in a few steps, his arms closing around James, pulling him close.

“It’s only about a week, Hendo.” James says, trying to convince himself as much as Jordan that it’s not a big deal that their holiday is over.

“Sure you don’t wanna come to Miami?” Jordan mumbles into his neck. James feels his lips move against his skin, the touch sending a shiver through him.

“I’ve got stuff I need to take care of at home.”

Jordan knows he means people to tell about them, family and friends that know about James but not about Jordan yet. James is still worried though, not sure how anyone is going to react to this. He knows his parents are going to be happy as long as he is, but they’ll always worry. It’s just in their nature. Jordan tightens his grip around him, kissing the side of his neck.

“You’ll have fun in Miami and forget all about missing me.”

Jordan snorts, pulling back to look at him. “Not a chance.”

They look at each other, Jordan leaning his forehead on top of James’ head. “It’s not gonna be like this on tour. We’ll have to sneak around again.”

“I know. We’ll be together though. And when we get home, we at least don’t have to sneak around at our own houses.”

Jordan doesn’t answer, just moves his head to plant a kiss to James’ forehead. Another to the bridge of his nose. James lifts his head, so that the next kiss is to his lips. It turns into several short kisses, that end up in one long one. Jordan’s hand behind James’ neck holds on tightly, the other clinging to the front of his shirt. James’ hands are wrapped tightly around Jordan’s waist. This is their goodbye. Even though they even have their first flight together, before going off in different directions, there’s no way they can say goodbye like this later. Once they leave this house they have to pretend to be nothing but two teammates at the end of their holiday together.

“I love you,” Jordan mutters against James’ lips. James swallows, not sure he will ever get used to hearing Jordan say those words.

“I love you to.”

The car is already waiting outside. James had told the driver to give them five minutes. They were up a couple minutes ago at least. Jordan’s hands move to his face, grabbing him and kissing him again before finally letting go. James lets his hands slide down from around Jordan’s waist. They look at each other for another moment, before James forces himself to move. He heads for the door and opens it. At the end of the path the driver is leaning against the car, phone in his hand, their luggage already loaded inside. The sun feels really bright on James’ face, and he turns back towards Jordan, drinking in the sight of him. Jordan smiles at him as he moves past him. His hand takes James’, squeezing it lightly before he’s past him and heading towards the car. James takes a deep breath before closing the door behind him, following Jordan down the pathway.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise to any Spanish-speakers for the google translate Spanish. I have no idea if it's correct.
> 
> I left it very vague where they went, simply because I couldn't decide. They just had to speak Spanish there, cause apparently James Milner does speak some Spanish and that's not the sort of information I can just ignore. 
> 
> This turned out a lot angstier than I originally planned. It was supposed to be a fun fic about Milnerson on holiday, but the reality of what it would actually be like refused to leave me alone. 
> 
> There will probably be a third sequel to this, focusing on pre-season, with a lot more of the LFC squad involved.


End file.
